Distantly, I heard the dragon roar. The ship scream. My power strained to slip away from me and create its own chaos, as it had in the Pit and the tunnel and the theater, but I held it. And faintly, I felt Ilina, Hristo, and Aaru holding me, giving me confidence and strength.
Power pulsed through my soul and at last broke free.
PART FOUR
DENY THE DARK
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MINUTES MIGHT HAVE PASSED, OR HOURS.
When I opened my eyes and returned to myself, only ocean stretched before us, and the crew sang as they worked the lines. My friends had remained at my side. A wonder, because I could have exploded the ship.
But I hadn’t.
I’d used my strange ability with noorestones for something good.
Aaru squeezed my arm and smiled. ::Very good.::
Exhaustion flickered in the corners of my mind, and I knew I needed to rest. The sun angled toward the west, setting over the Daminan mountains.
“That was amazing.” Ilina had been looking beyond me, but when I returned to myself, her focus shifted. “The way you spoke to Hush. The way she listened.” Her voice cracked a little. Worry or weariness or perhaps a bit of jealousy. She was the dragon trainer; if anyone should have this affinity for dragons, it should be her. But she wouldn’t show envy beyond that. No. She just wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. “I knew you had it. Hristo and I both knew it.”
Hristo nodded.
Before I could ask more, Captain Pentoba strolled across the foredeck. “Well done, Hopebearer. I don’t know what you did with my ship, but your friends said it was definitely you. We’ve outpaced the Falcon.”
“The Falcon?”
“The Khulani ship. I saw her name as we flew past.”
“Did you see Altan?” If he’d been on the deck, he’d have seen me standing here, Aaru at my side. The two prisoners he hated most.
Captain Pentoba nodded. “Oh, yes. At the helm and screaming orders. I swear, there was steam coming out of his ears.”
The image drew a quick smile from me. I didn’t like the idea of missing him that narrowly, but at least we knew where he was.
“We have a few hours’ lead,” Captain Pentoba said. “But there are some things we need to discuss.”
All I wanted was to collapse into my hammock, LaLa curled up on my chest, but I motioned for her to ask her questions.
“What do you want to do about Gerel and Chenda?” The captain squinted south. “We’re far from Crescent Prominence now. It’s unlikely they’ll catch up to us, as fast as we went. And it’s unwise to turn back.”
“Was anyone able to leave word for them?”
Captain Pentoba shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Between the dragon and the Falcon, there was no time.”
Ilina glanced down.
“All right,” I said after a moment. “Then I guess we go on without them.”
The captain nodded. “Which brings me to my next question.”
The question of our destination. That made sense. We had to go somewhere, but considering all the disturbing information we’d learned in Crescent Prominence, everywhere seemed incredibly dangerous and full of lies.
This side of Darina was the easternmost part of the islands, and we were already going north—toward Anahera. “Let’s keep our current heading. It’s away from the Falcon and we can dock in Flamecrest if we want to get lost in the crowd there.”
Ilina’s face darkened.
“What’s in Flamecrest?” asked the captain.
There were dragons on Anahera, but I’d learned my lesson about trying to rescue them with brute force. We didn’t know where they were, or have a good plan to get them, and now we had nowhere to even take them. Ilina’s parents were on Anahera, but rescuing them seemed even more impossible. “I don’t know if we’ll stay there,” I said. “But the Flamecrest port is crowded. If we can change our colors and hide for a day, the Falcon will pass us by. That will give us some time to discuss everything and come up with a plan.”
“I don’t want to go to Flamecrest,” Ilina said.
“They’re not that bad.” Wildly extravagant, yes. Overtaxing thieves, no. But for years, rumors about the Isle of Destruction had swirled across Damina, painting the government there as some sort of oppressive regime.
In all my visits to Anahera, I’d seen no evidence of truth in that gossip. The island had its wealthy and its poor, just like any other place, but Aaru told stories of worse poverty on Idris, and I’d seen the dishonored camp with my own eyes. The economic imbalance on Anahera didn’t come close.
“I’m surprised to hear you defend them.” Captain Pentoba raised an eyebrow. “The High Magistrate was vocally opposed to the Mira Treaty, you know.”
“I’m aware.” But every time I’d visited the island, the High Magistrate and the Fire Ministry had been nothing but cordial to me, going so far as to throw lavish parties in my honor. When I’d asked the magistrate if his people minded—considering his campaigning against the treaty—he simply said he could not deny the good it had done. “I still think it’s worth going. It will give us a safe place to hide and work out what to do next, and if somehow the Anaheran authorities should hear about the explosion of the council house in Crescent Prominence—”
My throat closed at the words. All those innocent people. Slaughtered. Because they’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“We can’t ask them for help directly,” Hristo muttered, “but if they were to find out the Falcon carries the warriors responsible for the explosion, they would feel obligated to seize the ship. For the treaty, and for their god.”
Destruction without purpose was an affront to Anahera. Like wildfires making way for fresh growth, or felling a tree to carve something useful from its wood, Anaherans believed in life and death and then new life. They believed destruction should be carefully crafted, with love and understanding, to make a better future. But what happened in Crescent Prominence had been senseless. They would not be able to abide what the warriors had done.
Ilina’s gaze was hard as she shook her head. “I can’t go there.”
“Why?”
“It’s personal.” She clenched her jaw.
Personal? I’d never heard Ilina talk about a connection to Anahera, not even once. “Then offer a better plan.” I frowned, confused and concerned, but we couldn’t stand here and debate it. Captain Pentoba needed to know where to go.
Ilina crossed her arms and looked west, her acquiescence spoken only in the set of her shoulders.
I turned back to the captain. “Flamecrest.”
“Good.” Her gaze flickered beyond me. “And about that dragon . . .”
“Is she all right?” My chest squeezed. “Where is she?”
“Over there.” Ilina pointed over my shoulder, toward the jagged peaks of the Skyfell Mountains and the setting sun. “She’s been following us.”
I shaded my eyes and squinted until I found the dark shape against the golden sky. There she was. Drakontos titanus. Her wings outstretched and her body full of air.
“I don’t think she’s following,” I murmured. “I think she’s escorting us.”
“Whatever she’s doing, she makes the crew nervous,” Captain Pentoba said.
I watched her for a moment, torn between extremes of understanding. The crew had every right to be afraid: they’d just seen Hush set a city ablaze, and it was impossible to predict what she’d do next.
It had been my city she’d set out to destroy, and there was a part of me that was furious with her for that.
But my heart pounded with hers: terrible things were happening to dragons, and humans were to blame. We had started this fight; she intended to finish it. Perhaps I could help direct her fury.
“Captain!” One called up from the main deck. “Another ship coming up.”
I was too tired for more disasters, and my legs ached from descending hundreds of stairs, but I followed the captain to the quarterd
eck and peered south.
One was right: in the distance, sails stood black against the water, gleaming like oil in the last light of the sun. The ship moved quickly, cutting through the waves as though they were but clouds. In spite of the head start I’d given us, the black ship was gaining on us.
“At least she’s not the Falcon.” Captain Pentoba held a scope to her eye. “If she’s not the ship Gerel and Chenda went to investigate, then she’s similar.”
When she lowered her scope, Hristo took it and peered through. “No one on the deck. At least that I can see.”
“I noticed that, too.” The captain scowled across the water. “We don’t know they’re after us. They might also be fleeing Crescent Prominence.”
::If they’re from the empire, they might be after Mira.::
Fear spiked through my heart as I interpreted Aaru’s quiet code. “Why would they be after me?” But I knew, didn’t I? No one could ignore what I’d done in the theater. They’d find out. And they’d find me.
Aaru just looked at me, his mouth turned in an unhappy smile.
“If definitely doesn’t move like any Fallen Isles ship I’ve seen. It’s so fast.” The captain took her scope again, just as the sun slipped beneath the Skyfell Mountains and the black ship vanished against the dark water. “No noorestones. Only one light, and it’s flickering.”
“Like fire?” Ilina shook her head. “That seems unnecessarily dangerous.”
Aaru pulled out his notepad and wrote, What do we do?
I stuffed my shaking hands behind my back and tried to focus on my breathing.
“I think we need to run,” said Ilina. “Get away from them as fast as we can.”
“And then what?” Hristo asked. “We might escape tonight, but what about tomorrow? Or the next day?”
“We can’t run indefinitely,” Captain Pentoba reminded them. “Our supplies will only last so long before we need to find a port.”
I stared hard at the place the black ship had been, but I couldn’t see it anymore. Not with the sun set and the moons not yet risen.
There.
A flame.
Panic stirred inside me, and my heart pounded against my chest. Fast. Too fast. And I grasped for my breath, but I’d been awake since midnight. I’d trekked across my city, only to discover that my parents had knowingly betrayed the Fallen Isles and used my name to do it, and now they might be dead. Then I’d been chased down the cliffs, into a trap set by the warriors who’d set off some sort of explosion in the city. And after we’d somehow managed to evade the Falcon and calm a raging dragon, we had to deal with the black ship?
Everything was going wrong.
“Hopebearer, can you speed us up again?” Captain Pentoba stuffed her scope back into her pocket.
The idea of touching the ship’s noorestone again made my stomach roil. “Possibly.” The word puffed out of me. I didn’t want to run anymore—we’d been running every moment since the Pit—but what alternative did we have?
Flame glinted against the water, closer than before.
My heart sped painfully, and at once I remembered my pills. The calming pills Doctor Chilikoba had given me.
Doctor Chilikoba was dead.
Which meant the pills she’d given me today might be the last I’d ever get. Was this attack bad enough to warrant a pill? Could I take one now? What if I took one now but needed it later?
Tears pricked at my eyes, and it felt like everyone was staring at me, watching my descent into panic. I couldn’t tell if anyone had said anything. If I was supposed to say something more. Darkness tucked around the corners of my vision.
“I—I can try the noorestone.” Did the words even come out loud enough to be heard?
Someone touched my arm; the gentleness suggested Aaru, but I couldn’t see him for the black fog tunneling my vision.
“I don’t think she can do it again.” Ilina’s voice sounded far away. “She’s having a panic attack. Mira, I’ll get a pill.”
“No.” It was the only word I could find now. The rest—wanting to save the pills for something more serious—was lost in the rush of wind and the shouts of sailors and the bone-shattering cry of a dragon. Her roar bounced off the mountains and pealed across the ocean, echoing and echoing. It was the only thing I could hear: Hush’s rage, my panic, and the numbers crowding in my head.
Five of us standing here.
One sister below.
Two friends missing.
One strange black ship.
One angry dragon.
As a strong arm wrapped around my waist, taking some of my weight, Hristo said by my ear, “I have you.”
I leaned toward him, letting him help; on the other side of me, Aaru’s hand fell off my arm.
But before I had a chance to worry I’d hurt him again, my vision started to come back and I caught sight of a black shadow against the twilight sky: beautiful and deadly.
Captain Pentoba gripped the rail as though to steady herself. “What is she doing?”
There was no need for anyone to answer. Bright blue flame spun from Hush’s open jaws, straight toward the black ship.
Its sails caught first, lighting up the ship like a torch. The rush and growl of fire carried across the waves, horrifying.
“Turn about!” Captain Pentoba strode toward her crew. “Prepare to take on survivors! Get Kursha up here!” Her orders rippled across the Chance Encounter as the rigging groaned and sails flapped—and slowly the ship began to turn.
Aaru, Hristo, Ilina, and I were pressed against the railing, watching flames consume the black ship with frightening speed. It had come so much closer in the time we’d been discussing it, so now we had a clear view of its destruction.
Above it all, Hush circled and roared again, ready to finish the ship and any survivors. But this time, I was ready. I leaned on the railing and lifted my face, and although my heart pounded painfully, I called for her.
“Hush!” Her name tore from me like a prayer, because I finally understood what she’d been doing.
She had felt my fear. My panic. She’d responded by attacking the source of my anxiety.
Which meant I needed to focus myself, because Hush couldn’t tell the difference between a small panic attack and my imminent death.
One.
Hush pulled up, away from the burning ship.
Two.
Her roar skittered across the water, confused but curious.
Three.
Metal shrieked as something in the black ship ripped apart.
Four.
Screams from the crew rose up as Hush circled both the Chance Encounter and the burning black ship.
Five.
Splashes sounded in the water—crewmen leaping in and swimming toward the wreckage.
Six.
Wood cracked, and a burning mast fell into the ocean.
Seven.
A cry for help.
Eight.
Red and orange raged against the water, illuminating a sheet of black metal with three people clinging to it.
Nine.
The crewmen reached the survivors and began to help them swim toward safety.
Ten.
Wingbeats punctuated the night as Hush—satisfied I was no longer afraid—flew toward land again.
“Do you need a pill?” Amber glass shimmered between Ilina’s fingers. My calming pills.
My hands still shook, but from exhaustion, not panic. “I’m all right for now.”
She slipped the bottle into my pocket. “Keep that with you. If you feel another panic attack coming, take one. If Hush can sense your anxiety, you need to be able to control it.”
The words made my heart twist into a knot, but she was right. I should have considered what this new connection with a Drakontos titanus could mean, and what she might do to protect me. If anyone had died . . .
Ilina closed her eyes and exhaled. “I don’t mean to make you feel bad. I know it’s worse for you. It’s just more complica
ted now.”
I let my hand rest over my pocket where the pills waited. “I know. But I think we’re going to have to find a way to get more. There are only twenty here.”
And my doctor was dead.
Maybe my parents, too.
Possibly Hristo’s father.
As well as countless others from Crescent Prominence.
“We’ll find something. Maybe Kursha can help.” Ilina glanced starboard, where crewmen had a line on a crank and were heaving everyone aboard.
Cautiously, we headed down to the main deck.
“Seven gods,” Ilina breathed.
I stood at her side, watching as Teres checked the pulse of the first person pulled onto the deck. He was a young man, with dark-brown skin, but that was all I could see of him. Burns covered half his face and body, leaving his clothes a charred mess of wet fabric. Still, I could tell the jacket was the uniform of a dragon keeper at the First Harta Dragon Sanctuary.
“It’s him.” I could hardly believe it, although I’d suspected, hadn’t I? “It’s the man from the sanctuary.” I’d nearly run straight into him. And I’d begged him for help. I’d told him that his empire was taking our dragons. Had there been amusement in his tone? Would I even recognize familiar expressions and manners on such a foreign face?
Except his face wasn’t strange. He looked normal. He looked like one of us.
Idris is isolated. That was how the song went. But maybe all of the Fallen Isles were isolated, too. Mother had even asked why we’d ever want to leave.
“I saw him in the theater, too,” Hristo said. “Standing near the stage while everyone ran.”
My heart clenched up as the man from the empire rolled onto his back and groaned. “Do you think—”
There was no time to finish the question. Two more people lurched onto the deck, their limbs splayed out as they gasped dry air.
Gerel and Chenda.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THE MAN FROM THE EMPIRE WAS IN NO CONDITION TO speak.
While all three passengers aboard the black ship had suffered burns, Gerel’s and Chenda’s were small and easily treatable. They protested, but were told to spend the night in the infirmary at the medic’s orders. (Plus, Zara had taken the last bed in our cabin, and the infirmary was the only other place they could sleep.)